


if my wall clock tells me that it's 4 in the morning i'll give it hell

by ashxtonsdimplxs



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer, 5SOS
Genre: a month younger than ashton, artstudent!luke, dont ask, dont think about it, fight me, im changing their births yolo, im the author, just go with it, luke is like, thats it, writer!ashton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:44:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2317913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashxtonsdimplxs/pseuds/ashxtonsdimplxs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired by this post http://lashtonau.tumblr.com/tagged/im-in-the-mood-for-writer%21ashton-and-artstudent%21luke-so-bad-so-so-so-so-bad<br/>basically writer!ashton with a small case of lukesomnia and artstudent!luke who also cant sleep and he draws ashton a lot okay its not his fault the boy has such a nice face, he /has/ to draw it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if my wall clock tells me that it's 4 in the morning i'll give it hell

**Author's Note:**

> inspo http://lashtonau.tumblr.com/tagged/im-in-the-mood-for-writer%21ashton-and-artstudent%21luke-so-bad-so-so-so-so-bad

ashton literally hates himself. okay, so he doesnt  _actually_ hate himself, but he hates luke hemmings. actually, no, that very idea is laughable. what he  _actually_ ,  _really_ hates is the fact that its four in the morning and all he can write are stupid cliche poems about a stupid pretty boy with stupid pretty blue eyes and stupid blonde hair. literally, the poems are laughable, sonnets about how lukes eyes shine like the sun. it actually makes ashton want to puke. maybe its the stuffy air of his dorm, that smells faintly like cigarettes and hair dye (stupid michael) and has clothes strewn about because ashton is a  _college_ student, hello, he doesnt clean. 

whatever it is, it makes him step out onto the small balcony they have, his glasses pushed into the bridge of his nose and the too big for him flannel wrapped around his tiny frame. (he most certainly  _did_ not buy it because he saw luke wears flannels and plaid  _a lot_ , okay? that was most certainly not the reason. (maybe it was.) (just a little.) (dont tell anyone.))

but, anyway, back to the balcony. hes sitting there, and hes writing, and hes not paying any attention to absolutely anything, until he hears a familiar australian accent cut into his thoughts.

"cant sleep?" it asks, and ashton jumps and turns and theres luke motherfucking hemmings, in all his night time glory, with a white tee shirt and fuzzy plaid pants (see?! a lot of plaid) grey beanie, and a bright phone light flashing between the two of them. ashton stutters and swallows his breath and manages a small shake of the head, his ratty curls flying around his face. luke smiles a small smile and sits down, right in front of the rails, sliding his legs through the slots and letting them dangle.

"good, i cant either. lets not be able to sleep together," he swings his legs back and forth, bare feet kicking at the small tree thats in between their second story dorms. leaves flutter to the ground around them, and for a few minutes, the sound of shaking branches is all that can be heard. 

"fat penguin," luke breaks the silence. ashton snorts out a laugh, giving luke a 'what?' look.

"im breaking the ice," it takes ashton a minute before he gets it, and he laughs again, shaking his head. 

"you dont talk much, do you?" luke eventually asks, tilting his head to the side, curiously watching ashton. the boy in question tilts his head up and shakes his head once more. 

"i talk," he pipes up. he does talk, a lot actually, but luke is. well. hes luke. hes amazing and tall and pretty and scary and ashton doesnt want to mess up. (he may have had a crush on him since his first year of college. hes now well into his third so. understandable.) 

"good. for a second there i thought you didnt like me, because i see you talking to that rainbow haired dude all the time, whats his name? um. mitchell?" luke blabs, hand waving through the air, and ashton thinks its absolutely adorable. 

"michael. his name is michael. and mine is ashton. hi. nice to meet you," he smiles brightly, and luke matches it. despite the fact that theres no sun out, ashtons world brightens just that much more. 

"luke."

and so it goes, and they talk until the sun peeks out behind candy floss pink clouds, and they laugh, and ashton nor luke could recite their random conversations even if they were being tortured. 

..  
..

its not that ashton cant sleep. its that he doesnt  _want_ to, because he has a project due tomorrow (today, technically. its four in the morning.) and he hasnt even started. 

"stupid teacher," he grumbles as he grabs his second cup of coffee, "write a short story about two fictional characters, make it a chapter long," he mocks. 

"fucking bitch needs to get laid." he sits down on the balcony, and its been a week since hes been out here, since hes talked to luke, and he smiles fondly at the memory. 

"who needs to get laid?" someone asks and, on instinct, ashton instantly replies with 'me.'

"i can help with that," ashton looks to the right to see luke there grinning, legs dangling from the railing on the balcony. hes wiggling his eyebrows and ashtons glad that theres no light, because his face is a dark red.

"cant sleep?" he asks instead, and luke clicks on his phone light and shines it at ashton. 

"nope,"

"aw that sucks, because i can," ashton sticks his tongue out at luke. "i just chose not to," he smirks. 

"why? thats stupid. youre stupid," luke grumbles.

"no, im ashton," ashton laughs at his joke. he is stupid. 

"loser," luke mumbles, ducking his head to hide his smile. 

"anyway, ive got this project for my writing class so," ashton holds up his notebook and shakes it a few time before dropping it back into his lap. he slides forward until his legs are pressing against the rails, and then slides them in between the slots so that his toes brush against the tree that luke is also touching. thats like, secondary foot contact. or something. ashton doesnt even like feet. what is his brain trying to do to him. 

"oh, im sorry, am i dstracting you? gosh, i feel bad, ill leave," luke stutters, struggling to stand up. he almost drops his phone. 

"luke, its fine. youre not distracting me. just keep talking, i need inspiration anyway," ashton smiles at the giraffe and luke sighs in relief, sitting back down. 

and so luke keeps talking, and ashton keeps writing, and he turns in the story about a knight in shining armor with blue eyes and blonde hair, that saves the princess with golden waves for hair and hazel eyes. (their names are not lucas and ashley, okay? okay.)

..  
..

its four in the morning and ashton cant sleep and its cold and he has a mug of tea in one hand a notepad in the other. theres two blankets draped around his shoulder, and his tea has gone cold and hes writing poems,  _good_ poems. poems about luke, but poems none the less. theyre sad, more like thoughts than anything else, and they dont even make sense. but theyre ashtons, and theyre luke, so it doesnt matter.

the sliding glass door makes him start, but not look up from scribbling down words. he sets his tea down and waves. 

"cant sleep?" luke asks. ashton spares him a small smile and a shake of the head. 

"good. lets not be able to sleep together," ashton smiles at the familiar choice of words. 

..  
..

its four thirty in the morning and theres a cute boy and lots of poetry and writing. luke went in about twenty minutes ago and has since brought out a canvas and some paint. ashton caught a bit of color on it, but he didnt question the obviously in progress work. luke keeps glancing up at ashton, sticking his tongue out in concentration. every once in a while, he'll give directions to tilt his head this way and that and ashton does as told, looking up from his worn note pad, just for a second. 

eventually, after luke tells him to look right  _again_ , ashton gives up and sets his notepad off to the side. 

"what are you drawing?" he asks. luke smiles sheepishly and holds up his notepad. ashton squints, hes not wearing his glasses, and tells luke to wait a minute. he goes inside and comes back out being able to see. he sits down in his previous position, turns on his iphone flashlight, and points it in the direction of luke. 

"oh my god," he gasps out.

 

"i cant believe- you did that?" ashton looks away from the painting and up to luke and hes blushing and avoiding ashtons eyes and nodding slowly. 

"oh my god its beautiful. i cant-" he shakes his head, his own cheeks burning darker than lukes. 

"what about you? what are you scribbling about over there, poem boy?" luke asks, setting the painting gently to the side. ashton looks down at his notebook and tears the paper out. it only has one poem on it. he balls it up and tosses it across the balconies, and luke leans back to catch it. he unballs it and reads it to himself, lips moving to form the words written on paper 

" _hes somehow comparable  
_ _to the smell of rain.  
_ _as the lights flash  
and my heart _ _races  
_ _i wish i felt his arms_  
 _around me._  
 _i try and try to write poetry_  
 _about him_  
 _but i can never_  
 _sum him up_  
 _in words."_

and luke keeps reading it, over and over, and ashton starts to get nervous. he fidgets and plays with his finger and bites his lip.

"can i keep this?" luke asks suddenly. "its just. really beautiful. and i really like it," he adds. 

"um, yeah. sure. go ahead," ashton nods, letting out a sigh of relief. he can now say hes questioned his writing skills. 

"whos it about?" luke asks, folding the piece of paper carefully before tucking it into one of the paper things covering the edge of his canvas.

"um," luke drew ashton, so ashton can write poetry about him. right? "you." he finally answers. lukes answering grin is bright enough to outshine the stars behind him.

..  
..

its four months later and its four in the morning and ashton cant sleep. 

he struggles away from the arms covering his waist and walks out onto his balcony and sits down and slides his legs between the slots and kicks the tree. 

two minutes later (ashton counted) the sliding glass door opens and luke walks out in all his night time glory, with ashtons hoodie and ashtons beanie and fuzzy plaid pajama pants. 

"cant sleep?" he yawns, rubbing his eyes and moving to sit next to ashton 

ashton smiles and shakes his head before laying and on luke shoulder. 

"good. neither can i. lets not be able to sleep together." 

ashton rolls his eyes and kisses luke with so much fondness it breaks his heart. (in the good way.)

**Author's Note:**

> i dont normally write without capital letters but whatever also that poem was written by my bestie syra pls pls pls tell me what you thought of it


End file.
